Here's the thing.
Given the strange Christmas present circumstances I find myself in, I reckon I have two options:
1. Rant, rave and bang about a bit. Get a taxi to town (she was right - it wouldn't fit on the bus) and stand in a very long refund queue. On return of cash, spend the best part of a day getting all the right presents, queue up to pay and get a taxi home because by then I will have lost the will to live and will be unable to face getting a bus.
2. Make myself a nice cup of tea. Sit down, and ponder on the fact fact that I have five healthy kids, all of whom will find Christmas Day far more exciting than if we had stuck to the original plan. Wait until my preferred shopping period of well into Advent, and finish the present buying myself.
I choose Option 2.
I find myself choosing Option 2 (well, the thankful-for-five-healthy-kids-so-does-it-really-matter bit) quite often these days.
Quite fitting, really, for Thanksgiving.
And anyway, if, on Christmas Day you fancy a game of darts (that's a few arrers to you, Ttony):
....or a spot of baseball practice:
......then you'll know where to come, won't you?
(Only do try and dodge the clay pigeon rifle as you're coming up the path. I don't know whether the house insurance will cover it).